


An emperor and his prophet

by orphan_account



Series: An Emperor, a Beast, and a Prophet [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddles, M/M, Throne makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just something fluffy I wrote. This is probably the first thing I have written in a very long time and I hope it's not stiff as hell.I guess the logical conclusion of liking two unpopular characters from the same thing is to ship them.Valkorion is tired and Heskal is worried for him. Cuddles and awkward throne makeouts ensue.Set in Bestia's Wrath universe, probably at some point after the events of KOTET. Valkorion has been freed from Vitiate and is now temporarily ruling Zakuul. He doesn't want this crown, but does his duty anyway, for as long as it takes to heal the planet. Heskal survived and is still trying to make peace with his world view being completely thrown out of the window.





	An emperor and his prophet

Heskal stood at the side of the Eternal Throne, watching his Emperor deal with something on a holoscreen. He could see the tired slump in the man's shoulders, and wished he could comfort him, tell him it's going to be okay and Zakuul will be whole soon. But his visions showed the long days of work ahead, for both of them. For Heskal it was helping to rebuild the Scion order, and for Valkorion it was healing the entire empire.

 

Valkorion swiped the holoscreen away, leaned back against the throne and let out a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes. It was late already, the sun has almost completely dipped below the horizon even from his point of view far above the ground level. Where'd all the time go? No wonder he felt exhausted, although it was a common feeling for him lately. He didn't want to return to the throne, but Zakuul needed him, at least as a symbol to latch onto. What he truly wanted was a quiet life somewhere far away, just him, Heskal, Shyren, a garden and at least two Tooka cats. Or five, for the three of them. The unwilling emperor sighed again, slumping even more under the weight of the day. He heard a rustle of fabric, and glanced to the side to see Heskal approach him.

 

“My emperor, you should rest.” - There was concern in his voice.

 

Valkorion let a weak smile creep up his lips.

 

“Oh I wish.There is no rest for me I fear. Not until Zakuul is healed.”

 

He rose slowly from the seat and stretched, and turned to Heskal. As if his composure stayed in the throne, he now looked miserable, and the Scion felt an ache in his chest. He moved in and wrapped his arms around Valkorion, and pulled him close. Valkorion melted into the embrace, nuzzling into the Scion's shoulder, and let out another sigh, much more content this time. Heskal rested his head on the other man's shoulder in return, and they stayed like this in comfortable silence for a while.

 

Heskal shivered and gasped when he felt soft kisses on his neck, and hands grasping at his back. He wasn't expecting that from the normally timid, and now tired Valkorion. The Scion had to admit to himself that it felt good, especially because it was Valkorion taking charge. He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the moment. The kisses stopped, and Heskal blinked and looked down at his Emperor. Valkorion was smiling at him, reaching up to touch the Scion's gaunt face. Heskal nuzzled against his hand and kissed it gently.

 

Valkorion nudged him, and Heskal went with it until he had been spun around and before he could even react, he was gently pushed into the throne, and Valkorion was in his lap. The Scion stared up at him, flustered.

 

“My Emperor, I shouldn't be on the.…” his sentence was cut off as Valkorion leaned in and pressed his lips to Heskal's, hungry, demanding. Heskal melted and kissed him back, matching the other's fervor. He could never resist it when Valkorion took charge. Not when he was pinned to the throne's back, with his hands held by the wrists, gently but firmly. Not when Valkorion was nibbling on his lip while muttering praises in his deep voice. Not when he was outright straddling the Scion, his body pressed so close Heskal could feel its warmth even through the layers of clothing. The clothes taunted him, he wanted them gone so he could just be with his love. The thought made him writhe, and he moaned softly.

 

“My emperor, please….”

“Hmm?” Valkorion hummed deeply before pulling back and looking him over. Heskal was a flustered mess from the kisses alone, panting and dazed.

“I…. Please, I need you.” His tone was desperate, pleading.

 

Valkorion smiled at him, and let go of his wrists to put one hand on his shoulder for support.

 

“We should retire to our quarters then. I am sure Shyren is waiting for us too.” His smile turned mischievous for a second. “Unless you want to do it right here.”

Heskal's face went even redder than it was before.

“I….”

 

Valkorion chuckled at his reaction, and nuzzled into his neck briefly before climbing off him. Heskal tried to compose himself as best as he could, and got up quickly, still beet red.

“I am not going to lie, the thought may have crossed my mind.”

Valkorion took the Scion's hand and gently pulled him along, eyebrow raised.

“May have?”

“Okay, it definitely has.”

“Would you like to hear a secret?”

“Yes?”

“I have thought about it too, but seeing how uncomfortable the bloody thing is to be in for any long period of time…”

Heskal chuckled.

“My visions never warned me about you having such thoughts, my emperor, but then again, they rarely show pleasant things.”

Valkorion squeezed his hand a bit as they walked.

“I know, love. I know.”

 

Heskal smiled at him, a spark of sadness in his silver eyes. The overwhelming lust he felt earlier quieted down somewhat, giving way for his usual sad thoughts. He didn't choose to have the ability to see the future. Hell, for a long time, he stubbornly believed that choice didn't exist as a concept. That everything was preordained, including his own death, that was supposed to be at the hands of Arcann. And yet, it didn't come, because another, more willful and stubborn than him, decided to defy fate and save him. It sent Heskal's whole world view out of the window. Was his vision wrong? Was he wrong about choice? Was fate mutable instead of set in stone? Did it exist at all? If it did, it was a fickle and unkind thing, then. Heskal sighed and shook his head, trying to chase the thoughts away. He'd inevitably return to them later.

 

“If fate exists, then it wasn't kind to either of us but I am glad it brought me here, to be with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, starlight.”


End file.
